


I Remember You

by Jude81



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt, Loss, Platonic Love, saying goodbye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 20:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17946236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jude81/pseuds/Jude81
Summary: Clarke says goodbye to Wells





	I Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> I lost my oldest friend last night. She was my first friend, my first playmate, the first person I ever loved outside of my family. She had a beautiful heart, and I didn't get the chance to tell her goodbye. Rest in Grace, Missy, I remember you.

I remember you.

I remember you. Your crooked smile that stretched across your face, wrinkling your cheeks. I remember the harsh pop of your knuckles when you were nervous, and the way you had trouble saying some words. But that never mattered, I always understood.

Your heart was bigger than your smile, and whenever you were given something, you turned around and shared it with everyone. Didn’t matter who they were or what it was, you shared it with them.

I remember you.

My earliest memories are of you, Wells. Mum used to tell me how we met when we were in diapers. Love at first sight in the way that only kids can still love. You shared all your toys with me. You had toys that I didn’t have, which was ok. I never wanted your toys, I only ever wanted to play them with you, and we did.

 We ran down the long hallways of the Ark, pressing out small bodies into tiny spaces, laughing and hiding. We poked around the hydroponics labs, our eyes too wide in our small faces, as we dared each other to touch the plants. We never did though.

I remember the first time I slept over in your cabin. You mum and dad tucked us into bed, pressed kisses to our foreheads. We lay in bed at night, whispering words that I can’t remember, until I realized that I wasn’t with my own mother. I don’t know what time it was, but your dad wrapped me in a blanket and carried me back to my parent’s cabin. The lights were turned off in the cold hallways, only emergency lighting bouncing down the hallway.

I was afraid, but your dad told me it was ok, that I could come back some other night, maybe when I was a little bigger. And you didn’t blame me the next morning when I sat down next to you at recess. I was embarrassed for being such a baby, but you just laughed and told me it was ok.

You pulled a red apple out of your bag. It was small and bright red. Apples were rare on the Ark, it had been your birthday present from a couple of days ago. And we ate it together, passing it back and forth, taking small bites, one at a time. We wanted to make it last. The juice dripped down our chins, and we wiped our messy fingers across our mouths and licked them. It was the only apple I ever ate on the Ark. I eat them now on Earth.

I remember you.

They made you stay back a grade in school. Some kids whispered that you were dumb, because you had trouble with your words, and you didn’t understand numbers. But fractions are hard. Everyone knows that. It was ok, Wells. I don’t remember the accident, but mum told me about it. How we were only two and playing in the nursery when one of the heat cells exploded. You were the one closest to it. They almost didn’t do the surgery that would save you, but by then your dad was Chancellor, and he over-ruled the council.

The scar wrapped around your head, thick and white, but it was smooth, not bumpy and raised like I though it would be. It followed your hairline, and after a while, no one remembered it was even there. But I think it is why you had trouble in school.

I remember you.

I remember when your mum died. You had been over to our cabin a lot lately. Your dad would come in late at night, whisper quietly to my parents. I remember peeking around the door jamb with you, listening, not understanding what was happening.

 _Mommy is sick, Clarke._ You said it like you were telling me that we lived on the Ark in space, like it wasn’t exciting in that way that makes you sick to your stomach. And one night your dad came to our cabin, and we were sitting on the floor playing. He picked you up and held you and whispered quietly to you. You cried as he carried you away.

Mum whispered it quietly to me. _Charlene is dead._ I didn’t really know what that meant, but I never saw Charlene again, and everything changed a little. Everything was just a little off-kilter, like a crooked picture that you can’t quite bring into focus. We were six.

I remember you.

And when dad died. It was you who stayed with me during the long nights when I cried, curled up in a little ball clutching his watch. You sat beside me, patting my hair, saying nothing. Sometimes there is nothing to say, just be there. And you were there. You were always there, and I was always there.

Until we weren’t.

I remember you.

We grew up, and you had a son with a girl. She wasn’t right for you, and I never liked her. I thought she was using you to get to your father, to his resources. You loved your son. You named him Luke. But you were young. That girl didn’t want the baby when she realized that you weren’t going to give her precious Ark resources. You married her, and I helped plan your wedding, but she left you both. She broke your heart and took everything from you, except your son.

But you still smiled, and you still gave and gave and gave. I think it made you an easy target for people like her. I wish…I wish I had been around more.  

Surviving on Earth was harder than we thought it would be. We were so unprepared. I stayed with the Trikru, and you with the Arkers. I wrote you letters sometimes, and you wrote back, your words scrawled across precious paper, the ink running in messes. Writing was sometimes hard for you too.

Your son stayed with Jaha mostly, and I remember when you fell in love again. And this time…this time she loved you. She gave you two more sons.

I remember you.

You were happy and loved. They told me you developed a heart condition around the time your youngest son was born. But no one told me it was serious, Wells! No one fucking told me! And I didn’t ask. I didn’t ask, and I’m sorry, Wells. I’m so fucking sorry.

You were my first friend, my first confidante, my first playmate, the first person I loved that wasn’t my family. And now you’re gone. Mum called me through the radio, told me you were dying. You needed a heart, but it was already too late. You would never survive the surgery, even if she could replicate a heart in time for you. You wanted to leave the med bay and the Ark, you wanted to go back to your small house and die with your wife and sons.

They said you wouldn’t make it, that the trip by wagon would be too much, but you proved them all wrong. You did it. You made it to your small house, you made it home to your wife and children.

I’m in Polis. Did you know that? I’m not in Ton DC anymore. I didn’t even have time to call you through the radio. It was already too late. Mum called me back an hour later, told me you’d died. You died with your father and your wife and your sons around you, and my mum beside you.

I remember you, Wells. And I’m sorry. You were my oldest friend. I miss you. I have to stay in Polis, the ambassadors are coming. I’m sorry, Wells, that I can’t be there to lay you to rest with your family. But I will come, in summer. And I will talk to you then. I will remind you of the long hours we spent running down the hallways playing hide-n-seek, of the thousand and one times we curled up on the bed reading the few books that the library had.

I will remind you that I always loved you, Wells. Tell your mum I said hi. I don’t remember her very well, except that she was kind to me, and she loved you more than anyone else.

Goodbye, Wells. I miss you. I remember you.

 

Love Always,

Clarke.


End file.
